


On Your Mind

by spnsecret



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mind Reading, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsecret/pseuds/spnsecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hunt leaves Dean with the temporary ability to read minds, only he keeps it to himself. Your thoughts leave him with lots of ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Mind

It was a psychic. It wasn't that Dean didn't believe in psychics, he just didn't believe this guy was one. Even after the guy had helped you solve the case, Dean chalked it up to luck and coincidence. Until you dropped him off at home. He had invited you, Sam, and Dean in for a drink, and you all agreed. You all said goodbye, but when you got to the car, Dean didn't have his keys, so he went back in alone.

What you didn't know was that he had a quick chat with the psychic while they were alone. The psychic had a way to prove his abilities. He placed his hand on Dean's head and seemed to concentrate really hard. The next thing Dean knew, the man was talking... but he wasn't.

"Twenty-four hours, Dean."

"How the hell did you do that?"

"Honestly, I don't know," the man said. "I discovered a while back that I could transfer some of my abilities, by accident. It's not permanent."

"Alright," Dean said. "You're psychic. I believe you... Now, take it back. It's creeping me out."

"Sorry, Dean. I never figured out how to take it back."

"You son-of-a-bitch."

"Consider it a learning opportunity. You'll find out a lot about people."

"Yeah, by invading their private thoughts."

The man shrugged. "So, lock yourself away for twenty-four hours. Like I said, it's temporary."

Dean clenched his jaw, and his fists, but he turned and left. He was quiet at first on the ride back to the bunker, then he cranked the music up until you and Sam complained at how loud it was. After that, you couldn't get him to shut up. He jumped from one topic to the next any time conversation died down.

"Dude," Sam said, "what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

After that he was quite again, and you'd spent the rest of the trip thinking about the long, warm shower you wanted to take when you got home.

At the bunker, you grabbed your bag from the trunk, and noticed Dean staring at you.

"What," you asked.

"Nothing. What?"

"Stop staring at me. You're creeping me out."

"I wasn't staring," he huffed.

"Yeah, okay."

"I wasn't. I was just... thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Very funny," he said as he closed the trunk.

When you were done with your shower, you dressed in a black camisole and grey sweatpants. You found Sam and Dean in the library with books spread all over a table, and you knew they had already found another case. You sighed and sat down at the head of the table, with Dean to your left.

"Have I mentioned how much I love the water pressure in these showers?"

Dean had been sipping his beer, but he spit it out across the table as an image of you with the detachable shower head on pulse entered his mind. He saw the surprised look on your face and immediately covered.

"Went down the wrong pipe," he said. "Sorry."

Sam handed him a napkin, and Dean patted up the mess. The guys filled you in on the new case, and you immediately went to work. With your nose in a book, you tapped your pencil on the table and let ZZ Top's 'Rough Boy' play through your head. You looked up a moment later when you heard Dean quietly singing it.

"Was I just humming," you asked.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, then answer together.

"No."

You looked at Dean. "You were just singing the song I was playing in my head."

"No kidding?" Dean smiled a bit. "That's weird."

"Not that weird," Sam said. "You two like a lot of the same music."

"True," you said.

You went back to your research, but your neck was starting to get stiff. You glanced over at Dean, whose finger was silently tapping out a rhythm on the table. Several things quickly flashed through your mind: that long finger in your mouth... and between your legs. But you shook the thoughts away. Instead, you imagined Dean's large, strong hands massaging your neck and shoulders. You rolled your head around with your eyes closed. You didn't even register the sound of a chair moving across the floor as Dean stood, until you felt his hands on your shoulders. You tensed up, and pulled forward, almost trying to get away.

"What are you doing," you asked.

"You looked like you were hurting," he said. "I just thought, maybe you could use a rub."

His thumbs pressed firmly into the base of your skull where it met your neck, and your body went limp. His hands massaged down your neck and across your shoulders.

"Ohh, that feels good," you whispered.

You saw Sam make a questioning face as he stared at Dean, and you couldn't help but feel like you were asking the same question. What was going on with him?

His hands finally came to rest on your neck. "Better," he asked.

"Yes... thank you."

"No problem." He let his thumb brush over your cheek as he pulled away, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Another hour passed, and your mind kept wandering to Dean and how amazing his hands felt. You imagined other places you would like to feel his hands, and his lips, too. You occasionally glanced his way, and he always seemed to have a slight smile on his face, which made you wonder what he was thinking.

Sam announced that he was going to hit the showers, and you began to stare at Dean out of the corner of your eye. Dean was like you with music. Something was always running through his head. You wondered what it was at that moment. As if on cue, Dean started humming Ramble On. Of course. It was his go-to song. One of his favorites. You smiled at his humming. It was strange how he almost seemed to be reading your thoughts since you got home. As soon as you had the thought, Dean stopped humming and shifted in his seat.

No. He couldn't.

In your head, you said his name in a stern and accusing manner.

"What," he asked.

"What?"

"You--" he stopped. His eyes grew wide, them he looked back at his book. "Nothing."

You thought back to the psychic, and how strange Dean had been acting in the car on the ride home, and you stood from your chair.

"Dean, you look at me, right now. What happened to you today?"

"Nothing."

"Bull shit!"

"Alright... maybe that psychic did something to me because I didn't believe he had any real ability."

"What did he do?"

"He gave me the ability to... temporarily... read people's thoughts."

Your eyes grew wide, and your face became red. "Oh my gosh. Do you have any idea how mortified I am right now?"

Dean chuckled. "Hey, I'm flattered."

"You're flattered? Those are my private thoughts, Dean!"

"I know. I told the guy to take it back, that I wouldn't feel right, but he said he couldn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly? You're always so proper and focused... I didn't think you had those kinds of thoughts. Especially about me." He stood and moved toward you. "I didn't know you were even remotely attracted to me."

"Do you have any idea how violated I feel?"

"Actually," he said as he motioned between his head and yours, "I really do."

"How long will you have this?"

"He said twenty-four hours."

"I can't believe this. Do you just kind of know what I'm thinking, or can you see--"

"Oh, I can see."

You turned around and covered your face. "This is so embarrassing."

"No, this is good."

You spun back to face him. "Good?"

"Yeah, now I know how you really feel about me."

"Just because I was fantasizing about you?"

"Well, you weren't fantasizing about Sam."

"Oh," you said with a smile. "I do that, too, sometimes. Wanna see?"

You closed your eyes and imagined Sam licking down your neck.

"Alright," Dean said.

You imagined Sam ripping open your shirt and pulling down the cups of your bra, and pulling a nipple between his lips.

"Gross, I said alright! Enough!"

Dean grabbed you and kissed you hard. His was body was tense, but Sam faded from your imagination and you focused on Dean's lips, and he began to relax. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you: one around your waist, and the other around your shoulders. You thought about what a good kisser he was, and you felt him smile against your lips. You imagined his lips trailing down your neck, and then they were. You had a quick flash of the two of you completely naked, Dean grinding into you.

Dean pulled away and looked into your eyes. "Is that what you want, sweetheart?"

You didn't speak, but the image flashed through your mind again.

"I need you to say it, baby. Tell me."

"Yes... that's what I want."

Dean's lips were on yours again, and he lifted you into his arms to carry you to your bedroom. As you kissed, your mind raced. You couldn't stop the thoughts from coming. Did Dean just see this as an easy lay? Had he been attracted to you all this time? Of course he had tried to hit on you a lot when you first met, but that was just Dean. What about after he had gotten to know you? Was he still attracted to you? Did he really want this?

Dean locked the bedroom door behind himself and laid you gently on the bed. He leaned over you and kissed you before he pulled back to look into your eyes.

"No," he said, "this is not an easy lay. You, sweetheart, are not easy." He smiled, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Yes," he continued, "I've been attracted to you from day one... even more now. And, yes, I really, really want this."

He spoke the last few words with his lips against yours, then kissed you. You pushed at his shirt and he stopped to remove it. You were too anxious to wait, so you quickly removed all of your clothes, and Dean followed your example. You moved back on the bed, and Dean crawled over you. He stopped at your breasts as he made his way up your body. He gently flicked each nipple with his tongue, then took one fully in his mouth. Your hands went into his hair and held him to your chest for a while. He whispered your name when you moaned. He kissed back up your neck to your lips, and spoke against them.

"There was somewhere you wanted to feel my fingers... where was that, again?"

You moaned as the image of his hand between your legs filled your mind, and Dean smiled.

"I thought you wanted it in your mouth first," he said. "You went right for the good stuff, though. I like that."

His lips were back on yours as his hand trailed down your body, and he wasted no time slipping a finger inside of you. You gasped into his mouth and bucked your hips against his hand. He slipped another finger in as he continued to pump into you, and his mouth kissed down your neck to your breast, taking a nipple again.

"Dean... baby..."

With your eyes closed, your hand blindly reached out until it wrapped around his long, hard dick. He sucked in a breath with his mouth still on your breast. You stroked him in time with his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you were both soon breathing very heavily.

He kissed back up to your ear and whispered your name. "You ready, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you whisper.

He withdrew his fingers and pumped himself a few times with your wetness, forcing you to release him. As he moved between your legs, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He hiked one of your legs up onto his hip, and slid into you slowly. Once he filled you completely, he stilled with a sigh.

"You feel so good," he whispered. "Damn, baby."

When he finally started to move, you were chanting "fuck me" in your head, and Dean chuckled.

"You've got a filthy mind, you know that?"

You laughed. You couldn't help it.

"I'm gonna miss it when I lose this tomorrow," he said.

He pumped into you a few times before you replied, "Maybe I'll just have to be more vocal."

Dean stopped moving, and his fingers stroked your hair. "Can you do that for me now?" He kissed your neck, just below your ear. "Can you beg me to fuck you?" He started to grind against you slowly, and you moaned. "Tell me, baby. Let me know how you want it. I won't always be able to read your mind."

"Fuck me, Dean," you said, barely a whisper.

"Do what?"

"Fuck me! Fuck me, baby."

Dean growled and picked up his pace. "It's even hotter when you actually say it."

He wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted your hips, holding you close and changing the angle of his thrusts.

"Dean.... Oh, shit!"

"I've got you, sweetheart. Let go."

You wrapped your legs around his waist and came undone. Your entire body squeezed his, and his orgasm was right behind yours. He thrust into you slowly, easing you both through the high. Then he kissed you as you came back down, your body still spasming around him with little aftershocks of pleasure.

When he pulled out of you, you expected him to roll onto his back, but he stayed above you, playing with a piece of your hair, twirling it around his finger, and kissing your lips with soft, lazy kisses. You ran your hands along his chest and shoulders, and you enjoyed the strength and comfort in them.

Dean pulled back with a sigh. "This mind reading thing is the best thing to ever happen to me."

"It almost got you punched in the nose," you said with a chuckle.

"But it didn't. It got me something awesome," he said as he kissed your lips. "It got me you."


End file.
